


Five Times Steve Rogers Danced

by derryderrydown



Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: F/M, M/M, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:50:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derryderrydown/pseuds/derryderrydown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Steve Rogers Danced

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Niqaeli for American-checking duties!

"It's simple," Bucky said. "You walk up to the girl, say, 'Do you want to dance?' and off you go."

"And what happens when she says no?" Steve said, and kicked a stone along the sidewalk.

Bucky shrugged. "They never say no."

They never said no to _Bucky_. Steve was pretty sure they'd have no trouble turning _him_ down. He paused at the door to his apartment building. "Coming up?"

"Sure."

Steve halted on the third floor landing to get his breath back. Bucky waited without commenting, as he always did. Eventually, Steve said, "Even if a girl did say yes, I don't know how to dance."

"It's easy," Bucky said, and picked up Steve's bookbag. "You just follow the music. Come on."

When Steve reached his door, Bucky was waiting for him. Steve opened the door - the lock stuck, as always - and let Bucky go in before him. "Mom?" Steve called, but there was no answer, just a note on the kitchen table that she was working an extra shift, his dinner was in the oven, and she loved him. "Want a glass of water?" he asked, but Bucky was concentrating on the radio.

Once it had warmed up, he dialled through the frequencies until he found a station playing music. "We're going to dance," he said, and Steve sighed. "No, look," Bucky said, "imagine I'm a girl."

Steve looked him up and down. "I don't think my imagination's good enough," he said, but Bucky ignored him and stepped closer.

"Arm around my waist," Bucky said, resting his hand on Steve's shoulder, and Steve reluctantly obeyed. Bucky cleared his throat. "A little higher than that, or the girl will slap you before the music even starts."

Steve blushed, and moved his hand further up Bucky's back.

"Other hand in mine," Bucky said, "and off we go."

" _How?_ " Steve asked, frustrated.

"Okay, let's try it the other way round," Bucky said.

"I'm not going to get up to dance with a girl and make her lead," Steve said, and tried to step away, but Bucky wouldn't let him.

"This is just a demonstration," he said. "We'll practice with you leading, I promise. Come on."

And Steve found himself with Bucky's arm around his waist, holding him tight, as they swayed to the music. "This is stupid," he muttered, and Bucky laughed, then swung them into as much of a spin as he could manage in the cramped kitchen.

"That's not what the girls say," he said, and dropped Steve into a dip.

* * *

Steve thought that the USO girls would get enough dancing on stage, but every evening, it seemed, once the audience had gone, somebody would find a gramophone or a radio or, if they were desperate enough, take a seat at the piano, and they'd start kicking up their heels backstage.

It was three weeks of shows before Lola collapsed, laughing and breathless, onto the chair next to his. "I think you're very rude," she said.

Steve blinked. "I don't mean to be," he said cautiously, but Lola was talking over him.

"There are hardly _any_ men here, and you just sit on the side and make us girls dance with each other. Do you think we're ugly?"

"No!" Steve said, because _nobody_ could think the USO girls were ugly. Not if they had eyes in their head.

Lola beamed and stood up, hand reached down to him. "Then we're going to dance."

She seemed ridiculously tiny in his arms. And if that wasn't distracting enough, she was still in her costume, which meant he kept touching far more bare skin than he thought he was supposed to.

"You're ever so sweet," Lola said, after a few minutes.

"Thanks," Steve said wryly.

"Really, I mean it. I don't think I've ever danced with a guy who's been a gentleman about it."

"I guess my mom raised me right."

Lola grinned up at him. "It's no _fun_ if you're a gentleman," she said.

* * *

Steve shut his eyes, held his arms out, and waltzed around his room.

He could practically feel Peggy against him, the warmth and strength of her, moving with him and with the music in his head.

Bucky would probably be imagining her in that red dress but that wasn't Peggy. Peggy was the uniform and the confidence and the sharp-shooting and knocking bullies down with one punch.

And one day, she'd pretty much promised, when they weren't stuck in the same chain of command, they'd go dancing for real.

He laughed.

* * *

"Mr. Stark?" Steve called, as he let the door to Stark's workshop swing shut behind him. The radio was on, as always, with Music While You Work playing. "Mr. Stark?" Steve called again.

"Down here."

Steve walked over to the inspection pit, where Mr. Stark was underneath a half-disassembled Hydra motorcycle.

"Even forgetting the power source," Mr. Stark said, without looking away from the motorcycle, "these things make no sense. They should rip themselves apart."

"They don't," Steve said, and Mr. Stark looked at him and grinned. "It'd be a whole lot easier if they did."

"They have given me some ideas about how to improve your motorcycle, though," Mr. Stark said, and held out his hand. "Pull me up."

Steve obeyed. Other people always seemed a little uncomfortable about asking him to use his strength for anything that wasn't directly related to fighting Hydra, but Mr. Stark would call him in to undo bolts and unfasten screws and even, once, open a jar of coffee.

"So," Mr. Stark said, leading the way to where Steve's motorcycle was upside down with half its innards spilled around it, "I was thinking that we could try upside-down forks to improve the handling."

"Sure," Steve said, while wondering how the wheels would be attached if the forks were upside-down. He'd learned not to ask, though, or Mr. Stark would explain. At length.

"I also need to know how much roughness you can handle in the ride, so I can set the compression dampeners to minimise brake dive - I'm guessing you'd rather have a bruised ass than be sent over the handlebars?"

"Right," Steve said, but Mr. Stark had stopped and was staring back at the Hydra motorcycle.

"Of _course!_ " he said. "It's so damn obvious! They use automatic variable dampeners!" And, before Steve could object, Mr. Stark had seized him round the waist and was swinging him round the workshop, to the accompaniment of Harry Leader. "Give me two days," Mr. Stark said, "and you won't _believe_ what that motorcycle of yours will be able to do!"

* * *

Steve was starting to wish he hadn't worn his dress blues to this reception. He was pretty sure he was the only person under two-star rank who was here as a guest, rather than security, and he was getting really uncomfortable being stared at.

Although, he conceded, that probably wasn't entirely due to the uniform. A lot of it was probably due to the way Tony was draped over Steve.

Steve wasn't sure whether that was Tony just being Tony, or Tony making a very loud point about being in a same-sex relationship. Either way, he thought it was very inappropriate for Tony to be stroking the back of his neck while they were talking to a Secretary of State. Inappropriate and enjoyable and far too distracting.

It was a relief when Tony straightened a little and said, "You'll have to excuse us, they're playing our song."

"Since when is this our song?" Steve asked quietly, when they were out of earshot.

"She was boring me," Tony said, "and I was very subtle about getting away. Although it does mean that our song is now officially My Heart Will Go On, which I think means I have to kill myself."

"I like it," Steve said, and managed to keep a straight face despite Tony's expression of horror. "I think it's very romantic."

"Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you," Tony said.

"It's because I can dance," Steve said, and whirled them onto the dance floor.


End file.
